


LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures Of Superboy 1 - A New Beginning To An Old Tale

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M, Romance, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-29
Updated: 2002-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new adventures of an old hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures Of Superboy 1 - A New Beginning To An Old Tale

## LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures Of Superboy 1 - A New Beginning To An Old Tale

by Catlover

[]()

* * *

LEX AND CLARK: The New Adventures of Superboy 

**INTRODUCTION**

I took a lot of liberties with this story. I'm going to be introducing original characters and I didn't entirely follow canon. I will be changing a few things in the Smallville storyline, but nothing central to the foundation of the fandom. Most notably, I'll be changing Clark, Lana, Pete and Chloe from freshmen to sophomores. I felt the need to do this for certain plot twists that come later. The Smallville kids are still fifteen at the beginning of the show, becoming sixteen during the school year. 

This story has only one rule concerning the existing Smallville storyline: I will only mention what I change. Therefore, if it isn't mentioned, then it wasn't changed. Easy enough, right? Luckily, there's enough slash subtext in Smallville to suit most of my purposes, at least, in the beginning. Generally, very little will change until the "Reaper" episode, then the gloves come off. 

As you can tell by the title - I'm ripping off the entire Superman universe. Hello, my tag is Catlover and I am a Superman junkie. I have all of the movies on DVD. I've watched every TV show that ever pertained to Superman - Even the badly acted ones, like "Superboy". I have a lot of the original comic books, going back to the 60s. Suffice it to say that all of my past Superman experience is influencing me. So, please, no e-mails saying they did that in issue# 203 or on "Lois and Clark," okay? 

So, on with the fun! Every chapter of my story will start with a song lyric. Therefore, I thought it would be nice to end my introduction with one: 

Every pop song on the radio is suddenly speaking to me, Yeah, art may imitate life, but life imitates TV... 

\- "Superhero" performed by Ani DiFranco 

**CHAPTER ONE:**  
A New Beginning To An Old Tale 

Standing there alone, the ship is waiting. All systems are go.  
Are you sure?  
Control is not convinced, but their computer has the evidence. No need to abort.  
The countdown starts. 

\- "Major Tom (Earth Below Us)" performed by Peter Schilling 

Horrible, pitch-black darkness was all he could see. Sterile, recycled air was all he could smell. Echoing in the distance, he could hear his Mother's cries. Something else, as well - a loud grinding of metal gears commenced just below him. Suddenly, young Kal-El felt his capsule raise to a 45-degree angle, causing him to shift uncomfortably in the pod. 

Some instinct deep within him screamed that something was terribly wrong. Desperately, he pressed against the smooth metal that surrounded him. Working his fingers into the groove that made up the hatch, Kal-El tried in vain to pry the door open. His cheeks burning hot, Kal-El succumbed to the tears that rolled down his round cheeks. Shaking helplessly, he pounded on the inner-hull weakly, his tiny fists curled tightly. 

Rocked violently out of his grief, Kal-El noted a strange force pressing down on him. In response, Kal-El felt his small body sink into the cushions underneath him. More and more, the pressure built. Soon, Kal-El found it hard to breathe. Scared and alone, he panicked as only a two year old could - struggling against the force, exerting himself until finally, mercifully, he passed out. 

\-- <{()}>\-- 

About A Year Later 

Smallville, Kansas 

With resounding explosions, the meteors landed. All over the town of Smallville, the extraterrestrial missiles wreaked havoc, caused death and changed lives. 

In a ditch, alongside an old country road leading out of town, a pickup truck laid overturned. Inside the truck's cab, the driver and passenger slowly revived. Blurry eyed, the driver shook his head. Hanging upside down, the man clumsily turned his head toward the driver side window. Blinking rapidly, the man struggled to keep his weak hold on consciousness and the naked boy standing beside the truck was not helping. 

After a few hard swallows, the driver called out, "Martha?" 

Situated in an upside position similar to that of her husband's, Martha turned her head to look at her husband. Instantly, her eyes darted past her husband and to the small boy standing outside. 

Managing to drag her gaze back to her husband, Martha gasped, "Jonathon?" 

Eyes wide and mouths agape, the pair stared at each other. For a second, they hung in silence before looking back out the driver side window. Now, they knew it hadn't been a dream for there he was. Crouched down, peering back at them, the curious child offered a gentle smile. 

"Okay, we got to get out of here," groaned Jonathon. 

Fumbling for the door latch, Jonathon pulled hard on the metal lever. Nothing happened. Just a click that made Jonathon let loose a string of curse words until he noticed his lovely wife frowning and motioning toward the smiling brunette. Sighing loudly, Jonathon took in a lungful of air and proceeded to knock his shoulder repeatedly against the door while pulling on the lever. Once again, nothing happened. 

Outside, the young boy watched Jonathon curiously. His hands on his knees, his body rolled into a tight ball, he tossed his head of wavy jet-black hair from side to side. Slowly, a light went on in the boy's large blue eyes. Extending his hands, he gripped onto the door handle. 

"Jonathon, stop shoving!" screamed Martha. 

Jerking around, Jonathon looked out the window. Cursing under his breath, Jonathon watched as the little boy stood and dug his feet into the dirt. Looking over at Martha, Jonathon asked, "Why don't you try your side, honey?" 

"I already have," answered Martha. 

Running a hand through his sandy blond hair, Jonathon said, "I don't know what to do, Martha. I don't want to hurt the little guy, but I don't see how else we're going to get out of here." 

From Jonathon's left, the scratching, high-pitched squeal of metal twisting apart sounded. In slow motion, Jonathon turned his head when he felt the gust of cool air rush into the truck. To his right, Jonathon heard Martha gasp and found he could only concur with her surprise at seeing the mysterious boy standing beside the truck with the twisted door in his hands and a tooth-filled grin spread across his face. 

Wasting no time, Jonathon braced his left hand on the roof of the truck while unlocking his seatbelt with his right hand. None too easily, Jonathon dragged his six-foot frame from the car. Getting to his feet, Jonathon brushed the dirt off his jeans and work shirt all the while never taking his eyes off the wide-eyed boy standing before him, still clutching the truck door. 

Making his way around the car, Jonathon braced his right foot against the front tire and pulled at Martha's door. After four tries, the door creaked open. Gently, Jonathon held Martha as she released the latch on her seatbelt. So carefully he handled her that Martha's head never touched the ground as Jonathon pulled her from the wreck. Once outside, Martha rubbed her sore shoulder and neck. After working out the worst of the sore muscles, Martha knelt down and reached back into the truck cab and pulled out a thin, dark blue blanket. 

With their arms wrapped around each other, Jonathon and Martha walked around the truck until once again they saw the naked boy. Kneeling down, Martha stared wide-eyed at the little boy. As she unfolded the blanket, Martha noticed that the boy's blue eyes seemed transfixed on her red hair. Testing her theory, Martha shook her head and watched as the boy's eyes darted about following her auburn tresses. Sighing softly, Martha grabbed the ends of the blanket. Spreading her arms and the blanket wide, Martha could only smile as the boy tossed the truck door aside and stretched out his hands in her direction. 

Wrapping the blanket around the boy, Martha picked him up. Resting his weight on her hip and right arm, Martha took a hold of the child's tiny hand and asked, "Where did you come from?" 

Pausing, Martha waited. The boy said nothing. Trying again, Martha inquired, "What is your name?" 

Still, the boy said nothing. Suddenly, the boy's round eyes started to shimmer. All at once, his brilliant smile faded into a deep frown. Hitching up slightly, the boy's shoulders and chest vibrated. 

"Don't cry. Don't cry. I won't let anything happen to you," said Martha quickly, but in a comforting voice. 

Shaking her head, Martha pulled the boy into a tight embrace. Pulling her head back a little, Martha smoothed the boy's raven locks back. With her thumb, Martha gently brushed a tear away. Smiling widely, Martha tapped the boy's nose with her index finger. After an initial shock, the boy smiled again. Brushing her hand through the boy's unruly hair, Martha sighed in a singsong voice, "You're an angel. That's what you are. You're an angel sent from heaven." 

"Kids don't just fall out of the sky, Martha," said Jonathon, a heavy sigh both preceding and following the statement. 

Glancing over her shoulder, Martha retorted, "Then where did he come from?" 

"I don't know, but he must have parents," answered Jonathon. 

Looking over the edge of the ditch at the ravaged field beside them, Jonathon stepped closer to his wife. Intending to protect, he wrapped an arm around Martha and the child. Stepping forward, Jonathon led them out to what was once a field of wild, knee-high grasses. Looking around, Jonathon and Martha noticed a long skid mark cut across the field ending at the far corner in a crater. Both of their mouths fell open as they gazed at what was obviously a small, metal pod half-embedded in the earth at the center of the crater. 

Without looking at Jonathon, Martha said, "Well, if he does have parents, they're definitely not from Kansas." 

His shoulders slumping, Jonathon turned to his wife and replied in the most understanding voice he could muster under the circumstances, "Sweetheart, we can't keep him. What are we going to tell people - we found him out in a field?" 

Placing a hand on the boy's head, Martha held the child against her body tightly as she answered, "We didn't find him. He found us." 

Slowly, the boy reached up and grabbed hold of Martha's hair and started twirling it around his fingers. At the sight of the child's innocent gesture, Jonathon could feel defeat. His head cocked to the side, Jonathon reached out and brushed his fingers through the boy's black hair. Looking back at Martha, Jonathon met her green eyes before nodding. The radiant smile with which Martha rewarded him made it all worth it. Looking back at the boy, Jonathon remarked absently, "I guess we should keep him. I mean, it's not like we can give him back." 

\--<{()}>\-- 

Two Years, Four Months and Seventeen Days Later 

Kent Farm 

The clear night sky was awash in sparkling stars. On a field marker, dressed in a far too big, faded blue t-shirt and Spiderman underoos, a five year-old boy sat beneath the twinkling lights. Lazily, his feet dangled a couple inches off the ground, swinging back and forth. Completely ignoring the moon, he let his deep blue eyes search the distant darkness. 

' _My name is Clark Kent_ ,' mused the boy. 

Tonight was the second anniversary of his name becoming official. Earlier, there had been cake and happy smiles. Just a couple hours ago, his Father carried him upstairs and tucked him into bed as his Mother stood at the doorway smiling. It was perfect. So perfect, Clark thought he would make it through the night, just this once, without the same nightmare coming to haunt him again. 

Drawing his knees up to his chin, Clark balanced on the narrow marker. Rocking slightly, Clark leaned his head back as far as he could. In this position, the stars filled his full range of sight. As always, it felt oddly comforting. 

"Son? What are you doing out here?" asked Jonathon as he strolled up to his son. 

Not stopping his intense regard of the night sky, Clark whispered, "Nothing, Dad." 

Jonathon glanced skyward. Biting his lip, Jonathon looked back down at his son. Sucking in a sharp breath, Jonathon inched closer to Clark until he was standing next to him. Tugging at the pant legs of his worn blue jeans, Jonathon crouched down until he was level with Clark. Tipping back his head, Jonathon looked up at the same expanse as Clark. 

"The stars are real bright tonight," Jonathon mentioned casually. 

"I guess," replied Clark. 

Glancing over at Clark, Jonathon said, "Y'know, when I was a boy and I couldn't sleep, I would go out into the cornfields and lay down between the rows. There were a lot of nights I fell asleep in those cornfields. All those tall green stalks climbing into the sky, topped with gold - they made the world make more sense." 

Bringing his chin to his chest, Clark paused for a second before turning his head in his Father's direction. "Really? You did that?" 

Nodding once, Jonathon answered, "You bet, sport." 

Clark looked directly at Jonathon and asked, "Why couldn't you sleep?" 

Looking back up at the sky, Jonathon replied, "Well, there were a lot of reasons. Sometimes, I was worried. Sometimes, I had nightmares. Sometimes, those cornfields just seemed to be calling to me." 

Following his Father's lead, Clark looked back up. "Dad?" 

"Yes, son." 

"Dad, that's how I feel," said Clark, in a small voice. 

"About the stars?" asked Jonathon. 

When Clark didn't respond right away, Jonathon looked over at Clark. "Son?" 

Still looking up at the stars, Clark nodded a few times. Biting his bottom lip again, Jonathon looked at Clark and asked, "So, what's the reason, tonight?" 

After a few seconds, Clark pressed his chin against his chest again. Looking at Jonathon, Clark responded with a confused expression. Noting the confusion, Jonathon clarified, "I mean are the stars just calling you, tonight, or are you worried about something? Did you maybe have a nightmare?" 

Clasping his hands in front of himself, Clark looked down at his clutched hands. "I had a nightmare." 

"That same one as always," inquired Jonathon. 

"Yeah. It's so real. It's so dark and I can't breathe," replied Clark. 

Jonathon placed an arm around Clark and pulled him close. "It was just a dream, Clark." 

"I guess," whispered Clark. For a second, Clark's mouth opened, but just as quickly he closed it, shaking his head. 

Peering over at Clark's troubled face, Jonathon asked, "What is it, Clark?" 

Clark glanced over at his Father and said, "It's just. It's just that it feels so good to look at the stars. I wish I could look at them all the time." 

Biting his lip, Jonathon nodded before replying, "Well, maybe it's your calling in life, Clark. Look at me, I'm a farmer who as a boy liked to sleep in the cornfields. You're a boy that likes to watch the stars. Maybe, you'll be an astronomer when you grow up." 

Smiling, Clark nodded. Looking back up, Clark said, "I'd like that." 

In response, Jonathon smiled. Standing up, Jonathon let go of Clark long enough to blow hot air on his fingers. Pounding his heels into the dirt, Jonathon commented, "It's gotten awfully cold, out here, Clark. I think we better get back inside." 

Shrugging, Clark hopped off the stone marker. Swinging his arms, Clark walked beside Jonathon back to the house, his T-shirt hanging below his knees and flapped in the breeze as they reached the barn. There, Jonathon paused. A couple steps later, Clark paused as well. Looking up at his Father, Clark reached up and took Jonathon's hand. The small hand on his own hand jarred Jonathon out of his reverie. 

Looking down at Clark, Jonathon said, "I don't like you sitting on the field marker where anyone could just come by and take you. I think I'll rig something up for you in the barn. Would you like that?" 

Clark stared at the barn for a second before saying, "How can I see the stars in the barn?" 

At Clark's question, Jonathon wondered allowed, "Well, we could convert the loft doors into windows. You could look out from there and if the next harvest goes well, we'll look into getting you a telescope." 

"Really?" cried Clark, hopping up and down as he held his Father's hand tightly. 

"Really," replied Jonathon while wincing from Clark's grip on his hand. Making a mental note to have a long talk with his son about control in the morning, Jonathon pulled Clark up by his hand until Clark was straddling his hip. Wrapping his arms around Clark, Jonathon carried his son back into the house. 

\--<{()}>\-- 

October 2002 

Smallville High School 

"Hi, guys." Said, Clark, with the slightest smirk on his face. With a bounce in his step, Clark Kent walked up to his two best friends. 

With wide eyes, Chloe looked back at the road behind them. Looking suspiciously like the scarecrow from The Wizard Of Oz, Chloe pointed her index fingers in opposite directions as her head swung back and forth. "Uh. Didn't you just- Weren't you-" 

Shrugging, Clark pulled his backpack on and said, "I took a shortcut." 

Shaking her head slightly, Chloe squinted her eyes as she asked, "Through what? A black hole?" 

Choosing this moment to join the conversation, Pete slapped Clark once on the chest. "Clark, you'll have to excuse our intrepid reporter. Seems as though her weirdar is on Def Con 5. She thought something was attacking the bus." 

Raising her hand limply, Chloe offered up her defense, "Okay, just because everyone else chooses to ignore the strange things that happen in this leafy little hamlet doesn't mean that they don't happen." 

Laughing under his breath, Pete joked, "Now, you know we'd love to join you and Scooby inside the Mystery Machine for another zany adventure, but we got to hand in these permission slips before homeroom." 

With a pained expression, Clark sighed, "Actually, Pete, I'm having second thoughts. I don't think signing up for the team is such a great idea." 

A mixture of anger and astonishment filled Pete's face as he leaned in and hissed, "Clark, listen, this is the only way." 

Putting both her hands up, Chloe stepped in front of the two boys she called her best friends. "Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. You two are trying out for the football team? What is this some sort of teen suicide pact?" 

At Chloe's giggles, Pete reacted angrily by grabbing Chloe's arm and pulling her aside. Leaning over, Pete whispered intensely, "We're trying to avoid becoming this year's scarecrow." 

Wrenching her arm away from Pete, Chloe whispered, "What are you talking about?" Rubbing her arm, Chloe straightened up and said jokingly, "And why are we whispering?" 

Gesturing wildly with his hands, Pete explained, "It's a homecoming tradition. Every year before the big game, the football players select a sophomore, take him out to Reilly Field, strip him down to his boxers and then paint a "S" on his chest." 

Offering more to the vivid description, Clark added, "An "S" for sophomore scarecrow. And then, they string him up like a scarecrow and leave him out in the field while they go to homecoming." 

With disbelief, Chloe stared wide-eyed at Clark and Pete. Shaking the disturbing scene from her mind, Chloe commented, "Jeez, that sounds like years of therapy waiting to happen to some unsuspecting fifteen year old." 

Nodding, Pete asked, "Why do you think we're trying out for the team? Figure they won't choose one of their own." 

Still shaking her head, Chloe stopped in her tracks and asked, "Am I to understand that this scarecrow is always a sophomore male?" 

Cocking his head to the side, Clark answered, "Yeah. Always." 

Brushing the back of her hand across her forehead, Chloe said, "Whew! You had me worried there for a second." 

"Excuse me?" asked Pete. 

"Well, as a sophomore female, I no longer have to associate an overwhelming sense of apprehension and dread with homecoming," explained Chloe. 

Nodding, Clark stated, "Unfortunately, as sophomore males, Pete and I are desperate to dodge a bullet this Homecoming." 

Together, the trio left the painful discussion behind them and approached the front of Smallville High School. Standing at the foot of the stairs, surrounded by their many fans, was the captain of the football team, senior, Whitney Fordman, and his girlfriend, the head of the cheerleading squad, sophomore, Lana Lang. 

Glancing at each other sadly, Pete and Chloe watched as Clark walked toward them. Nudging Pete with her shoulder, Chloe said, "Call me crazy, but I think if Clark is desperate to not be this year's scarecrow then he should probably leave the captain of the football team's girlfriend alone." 

\--<{()}>\-- 

Homecoming Day, 2001 

Luthor Castle 

"Hello?" Clark's voice echoed throughout the lonely halls. Looking about, Clark stared at everything. How could anyone, even someone as rich as Lex Luthor, feel comfortable in this place? The layout was out of the distant past. The fixtures and touches of bric-a-brac were certainly not replicas. The tables, the chairs were definitely antiques, so fragile looking he was afraid to get too close. Sticking to the center of the hallway, Clark glanced about worriedly, chewing absently on his bottom lip. 

' _This is a mistake_ ', thought Clark as he continued to search the halls. 

In the distance, Clark could hear the faint sound of metal slapping against metal. Walking to the open doorway, Clark practically jumped out of his skin as two individuals decked out in full fencing uniforms raced by him as they parried for control. Stunned, Clark could do nothing, but watch as one of the fencers quickly got the upper hand on the other. From across the room, Clark clearly heard the growl of frustration from the loser as he ripped off his helmet. One second, he was recognizing Lex. The next, Clark was acutely aware of the sword embedded in the wall just inches from his head. 

' _Definitely_ , _a mistake_ ,' reasoned Clark as he watched recollection quickly enter Lex's eyes. 

"Clark?" asked Lex. Surprised to find his own personal savior in the room, it took Lex a couple seconds to collect himself. During those precious seconds, Lex observed the frightened expression on Clark's face. 

' _Damn_ ,' Lex thought as he remarked, "I didn't see you." 

Still wide-eyed and slightly pale, Clark stuttered as he continued to glance at the shiny sword, "I, uh, buzzed, but no one answered." 

' _Let_ ' _s take care of this before he runs_ , _screaming_ ,' Lex thought as he grabbed the hilt of the foil and jerked the sword out of the wall. Turning away from Clark, Lex placed the sword on a table. Turning back to Clark, Lex asked absently as he crossed the room, "How did you get through the gate?" 

Blushing, Clark looked down at the ground. In his mind, Clark answered, ' _Well_ , _Lex_ , _you see_ , _I just pried the bars apart with my superhuman strength and then twisted them back in place so nobody would notice_.' Correctly, Clark realized that wasn't the wisest response. Instead, he offered, "I kind of squeezed through the bars. If this is a bad time..." 

' _Squeezed through_? _If someone as big as Clark can squeeze through my gate then I really need to talk to my security chief_ ,' mused Lex as he walked up to his sparing partner, tossing his helmet at her. "Oh, no, no. I think Hykia has sufficiently kicked my ass for the day." 

Cocking his head to the side, Lex looked Clark straight in the eyes as he said, "Let's go." 

As they walked through the halls, Lex was silent. Trailing after Lex, Clark was just plain uncomfortable. In the hope of banishing his nervousness, Clark remarked, "This is a great place." 

"Yeah, if you're dead and looking for something to haunt," answered Lex, flippantly. 

' _So_ , _the place even makes him uncomfortable_. _Well_ , _at least_ , _now I feel better_ ,' Clark realized. Remembering the manners his Mom engrained in him, Clark replied quickly, "I meant, it's roomy." 

Lex starts ascending a staircase with Clark in tow. Lifting his hand like a tour guide, Lex proclaimed, "The Luthor ancestral home." 

Looking over his shoulder at Clark, Lex added, "Or, so my Father claims. He had it shipped over from Scotland, stone by stone." 

Taking a self-conscious look around, Clark recalled, "Yeah, I remember trucks rolled through town for weeks, but no one ever moved in." 

Reaching the top of the stairs, Lex waited until Clark was standing beside him before stating, "That's because my Father had no intention of ever living here, Clark. He's never even stepped through the front door." 

Confusion spread across Clark's youthful features as he thought, 'How does he do that? Why does one look from him make me feel so confused?' Shaking his head, Clark asked, "Then, why'd he ship it over?" 

Shrugging to the left, Lex let the action draw him into a full turn and propel him forward. Once, Clark was back, walking at his side, Lex answered, "Because, he could." 

Taking a sudden left, Lex drew Clark into a large, well-lit room. Across the room, a fire roared with life. Lining the walls, exercise equipment stood, waiting to be used. Next of the equipment, someone had placed a table that was currently decked out with fresh fruit and bottles of fancy water. In a far corner, a wardrobe and a set of drawers rested side-by-side. Walking confidently, Lex crossed the room and opened up the wardrobe and one of the drawers. 

Shrugging off his fencing uniform, starting with the jacket, Lex threw the article into the wardrobe and slammed the mahogany doors shut. Reaching into the drawer, Lex pulled out a towel and patted down his face before looking back at Clark. The boy wore the strangest expression - an expression that Lex could recognize. ' _Oh_ , _Clark_.' 

Hoping to leave the troubling thought that just entered his head behind him, Lex wrapped the towel around his neck and asked, "How's the new ride?" 

' _Damn_ , _he just asked me a question_. _What was it_? _Think_ , _Clark_ , _think_ ,' reflected Clark from his own personal hell. Finally, the question sprang to Clark's mind and Clark answered quickly, "That's why I'm here." 

' _Blank stare_. _Check_. _Inability to think clearly_. _Check_. _Yep_ , _he_ ' _s a goner_.' Lex considered the gravity of the situation as he strolled to his table, picked up a dark blue bottle of water and proceeded to take a series of long swallows from it. Lowering the bottle, Lex flashed his profile at Clark as he inquired, "What's the matter? You don't like it?" 

Clark watched the muscles of Lex's throat play, sliding against each other as Lex moved and spoke. ' _What the hell is the matter with me_?' Suddenly, Clark noticed that Lex had turned around and was waiting for an answer. Quickly, Clark gave one. "No, it's not that. I can't keep it." 

Placing his water on the table, Luthor took several broad strides. Within seconds, he was standing directly in front of Clark Kent, almost touching him. Running his eyes over Clark's face, Lex replied in a steady voice, "Clark, you saved my life. I think it's the least I can do." 

As if under a trance, Clark found himself trapped in Lex's jade green eyes. Finally, Lex blinked, breaking the spell. Instantly, Clark looked down, staring at his sneakers. Reaching out, Lex hesitated for a second before taking a hold of Clark's chin and raising it. Looking Clark in the eyes, Lex asked, "Your Father doesn't like me, does he?" 

The look of sadness and regret on Clark's face told Lex everything he needed to know. Stepping away from Clark, Lex ran a steady hand over his bald head. "It's okay. You don't have to answer that. I've been bald since I was eleven, Clark. I'm used to people judging me before they get to know me." 

Reaching out a tentative hand, Clark almost touched Lex's arm, but stopped, leaving his hand to hover inches away. ' _Shouldn_ ' _t_.' "It's nothing personal. He's just not crazy about your Dad." 

"Figures the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh? Understandable." Reaching out, Lex grasped onto Clark's wrist, pulling him closer, before asking, "What about you, Clark? Do you fall far from the tree?" 

Clark's eyes dulled for a second and the muscles in his body tensed up at the question. Looking away from Lex's intense scrutiny, Clark closed his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to Lex's mischievous face. Confused again, Clark pulled his hand away from Lex as he stepped back. "I better go. Thanks for the truck. I left it outside the gate." 

Reaching into his pocket, Clark pulled out the truck keys. Pausing, Clark considered his options before quickly grabbing Lex's hand, turning it palm up. Gently, Clark placed the keys in the center of Lex's palm. Releasing his grip, Clark backed away quickly, turning to leave. 

A hand on his arm stopped Clark's departure. From behind his back, Clark heard Lex softly say, "Clark, do you believe a man can fly?" 

Turning around, Clark answered, "Sure, in a plane." 

Shaking his head, Lex continued, "No, I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about soaring through the clouds with nothing, but air beneath you." 

Narrowing his eyes, Clark stared at Lex for a second, then said, "People can't fly, Lex." 

"I did," Lex assured. "After the accident, when my heart stopped. It was the most exhilarating two minutes of my life." 

Looking Clark straight in the eyes, Lex whispered, "I flew over Smallville, and for the first time, I didn't see a dead end. I saw a new beginning." 

Smiling honestly, Lex continued, "Thanks to you, I have a second chance." 

Excitedly, Lex placed both of his hands on Clark's shoulders. Once he was sure he had Clark's full attention, Lex stated with certainty, "We have a future, Clark and I don't want anything to stand in the way of our friendship." 

With Lex so close, Clark found it hard to think, to form coherent thoughts or string together two words in response to Lex's statement. ' _What is going on with me_? _I get tongue tied sometimes_ , _but I only get this bad around Lana_.' That was when the reality hit him like a ton a bricks. Scared. No, terrified is a better word to describe Clark's emotional state at that moment. Quickly, Clark pulled away from Lex's grip. Clark looked at the floor, the ceiling, the little blue water bottle, anything to keep from looking at Lex. Crumbling fast, Clark mumbled, "I've got to go. I'll see you around. Bye." 

Those simple words spoken, Clark practically ran from the room. 


End file.
